Drunk Driver Causes Chaos on N3 in Mahindra Crash and Police Chase, Leading to Arrest
Drunk Driver Causes Chaos on N3 in Mahindra Crash and Police Chase, Leading to Arrest
A man suspected of being under the influence of alcohol caused chaos on the N3 highway last night, driving a Mahindra that crashed into a woman’s car before sparking a high-speed police chase that injured officers and damaged multiple vehicles.
The incident unfolded around 8:30 PM on Saturday, 13 September 2025, on the busy N3 between Johannesburg and Heidelberg, a stretch notorious for heavy weekend traffic. The suspect, believed to be in his late 30s and driving a silver Mahindra bakkie, rear-ended the woman’s sedan near the Tamboekie Interchange, shattering her rear bumper and causing her to swerve into the barrier. Shaken but unharmed, the woman quickly pulled over and called traffic authorities, reporting the erratic driver who smelled strongly of liquor and showed signs of impairment.
Road Traffic Inspectorate (RTI) officers from the Hawks and local police responded within minutes, spotting the Mahindra weaving dangerously through lanes. When they signalled for a stop, the driver accelerated instead, assaulting one RTI officer by ramming into his patrol vehicle before fleeing southbound. What followed was a tense pursuit spanning about 15 kilometres, with the suspect colliding with several other cars, including a family minibus and a delivery truck, causing minor injuries and traffic backups stretching to the Onverwacht offramp.
High-Speed Chase Turns Violent: Officers Injured in Desperate Escape Attempt
The chase intensified as the Mahindra barrelled down the N3, clipping a police motorcycle and striking an officer who tried to block its path near the Zuikerboschrand area. The officer, a 42-year-old sergeant with 15 years on the force, suffered a broken leg and abrasions after being thrown from his bike; he was rushed to Charlotte Maxeke Johannesburg Academic Hospital in stable condition. Another officer, attempting to deploy a spike strip, was clipped by the fleeing vehicle, sustaining bruises and a sprained wrist but remaining on duty to assist.
Eyewitnesses described the scene as terrifying, with the suspect swerving to avoid roadblocks and ignoring blaring sirens. “He was all over the road, like he didn’t care who he hit,” said Thabo Nkosi, a truck driver whose rig was sideswiped, denting his cab but causing no serious harm. The woman’s car, a Toyota Corolla, was the first casualty, but the chase left at least five other vehicles damaged, including shattered windscreens and crumpled fenders. No fatalities occurred, but paramedics treated several motorists at the scene for whiplash and cuts.
The pursuit ended dramatically near the R42 interchange when officers used a tactical manoeuvre to box in the Mahindra, forcing it into a spin. The suspect, who resisted briefly, was overpowered and handcuffed without further incident. A breathalyser test at the roadside showed a blood alcohol level more than three times the legal limit, confirming suspicions of intoxication. He was taken to a nearby police station for processing, where he faces multiple charges.
Arrest and Charges: From Reckless Driving to Assault on Officers
The 38-year-old suspect from Soweto, whose name has not been released pending formal charges, was arrested on the spot and booked at the Meyerton SAPS. Police confirmed he has no prior convictions but was driving without a valid licence, expired insurance, and the vehicle belonged to a relative unaware of its use. Breath tests and blood samples were taken to solidify the DUI case, while CCTV from highway cameras and dashcams from pursuing vehicles provide key evidence.
He faces a slew of charges, including culpable homicide if injuries worsen, reckless and negligent driving, fleeing the scene of an accident, assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm on the officers, and malicious damage to property. The injured RTI officer’s assault charge could add years to any sentence, as attacking police during a chase is treated severely under South African law. Prosecutors plan to oppose bail, citing the public danger he posed.
The Gauteng Traffic Police hailed the officers’ bravery, noting the chase could have ended in tragedy without their quick thinking. “This was a textbook response—coordinated, calm, and effective,” said a spokesperson. The suspect remains in custody until his court appearance on Monday, 15 September 2025, at the Palm Ridge Magistrate’s Court.
Aftermath: Traffic Disruptions, Injuries, and Calls for Stricter DUI Enforcement
The N3 was closed southbound for over two hours as recovery teams towed the damaged Mahindra and cleared debris, causing massive delays into Sunday morning. The woman whose car was first hit suffered shock but no physical injuries; her vehicle was declared a write-off, and insurance assessors arrived by dawn. Other victims, including the family in the minibus, reported cuts and bruises, with children particularly shaken by the near-miss.
Two officers remain hospitalised, but both are expected to recover fully. The assault on the RTI officer has drawn support from unions, who demand better protective gear for highway patrols. In a province where drunk driving claims over 1,000 lives yearly, this incident underscores the risks on major routes like the N3, which sees millions of travellers weekly.
Arrive Alive, the national road safety campaign, renewed calls for zero tolerance on impaired drivers. “One bad decision behind the wheel can destroy lives—don’t drink and drive,” urged a spokesperson, noting weekend enforcement ramps up with sobriety checkpoints. Stats show Gauteng leads in DUI arrests, with over 5,000 in 2025 so far, but fatal crashes persist.
Central News Weekly Edition | Issue 115 Download the Latest Print and E-Edition | Headline: Ngwathe Municipality Refuses to Back Down, Heads to Supreme Court of Appeal
Police Killed His Son. Prosecutors Charged The Teen’s Friends with His Murder.
It’s been four years since a Phoenix police officer killed Jacob Harris. Records obtained by The Appeal show officials have made inconsistent or false statements about the night police killed him. As Harris’s friends grow up behind bars, his father won’t stop until he gets justice for his son.
Mar 14, 2023Share
This story is published in collaboration with the Phoenix New Times.
Content warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of police violence and footage of police officers killing a 19-year-old.
Roland Harris has watched his son die a hundred times. The final moments of his life, documented in thermal video captured by a police aircraft, are burned into Harris’s mind: His teenage son, Jacob, steps out of a car. He runs from the police. Two seconds later, officers open fire. Bullets pierce his heart, lungs, and intestines. He falls to the ground, bleeding. Police pepper him with rubber bullets, hitting him in the face and backside. He is dying in the dirt. Then officers sic a dog on him.
It has been more than four years since a Phoenix police officer killed Jacob Harris, on January 11, 2019. The police department has since drawn a federal investigation into its use of deadly force. But Roland Harris’s fight for accountability has only left him with more questions: Why did police delete text messages from the night of his son’s shooting? Why are Jacob’s friends the only ones who have been held responsible for his death? How could anyone say his son’s killing was justified?
Harris’s search for answers has come at a significant cost: The cop who killed his son has demanded he pay the officer’s $40,000 attorney fees after a federal court dismissed Harris’s wrongful death suit. Harris and his wife split, in part, he says, because he became so deeply consumed by getting justice for his son.
“I have a void in my life that is never going to be filled,” Harris said. “Even when justice is served. It’s going to hit even harder. Because then I’ll have to focus on him not being here.”
Police have fought Harris every step of the way, refusing to disclose even basic information about his son’s death. It took six months for the department to release its report on the shooting, and even then, it only did so after he threatened to sue, Harris said. Police still have not returned his son’s belongings. But Roland Harris’s memories of Jacob remain fresh.
“He was all about family,” Harris said. “He helped me watch over his little sister, Leilani. He helped me coach little league basketball.”
Jacob had wavy black hair and a big, bright smile, accentuated by the peach fuzz that had grown in above his lip and on his chin. He was on the shorter side—5 feet 4—and he had his dad’s broad shoulders and stocky build. He also had Roland Harris’s brown, almond-shaped eyes.
Harris said that when Jacob found out he was going to be a father at 16 years old, he got a full-time job, finished school, and helped to support his girlfriend and child.
Before long, Jacob and his girlfriend had another child. “Now his daughter will never know him,” Harris said. “His son will never know him. They will grow older. Those memories will fade. And they’re gonna forget him. All because of a trigger happy cop. His kids are never gonna get any father-daughter dances. He’s never gonna get a chance to walk his daughter down the aisle.”
Over the last few years, Harris has slowly uncovered more information about his son’s killing and the events that preceded it. But every answer brings new questions.
In an effort to piece together what happened on the night of Jacob Harris’s death, The Appeal reviewed more than 6,000 pages of records from official investigations into the shooting, the county attorney’s prosecution of Harris’s friends, and the civil suit Roland Harris filed against the city of Phoenix. The Appeal interviewed nine people involved with the case and also obtained police personnel records, transcripts of police radio traffic, and aerial surveillance footage of the shooting.
Prior to publication, The Appeal sent the Phoenix Police Department a detailed list of statements that would appear in this story. A spokesperson for the department did not answer any questions and offered only a brief response stating that the court had dismissed Harris’s suit.
“The case is now on appeal to the 9th Circuit court where you can find the court file,” the spokesperson wrote.
Law enforcement officials in Phoenix—including Kristopher Bertz, the officer who killed Jacob Harris—have justified the shooting by saying they feared Harris intended to shoot them. But records obtained by The Appeal show that multiple officials have made inconsistent or false statements about the circumstances surrounding the shooting. Even Bertz’s own accounts of that night have differed slightly. Aerial surveillance footage of the incident shows Harris running away. And a judge in the criminal case against Harris’s friends has stated unequivocally that Harris did not turn toward Bertz.
Police records also raise serious questions about the department’s conduct prior to the shooting. Officers had been surveilling Harris and his friends for over 12 hours at the time, believing them to be connected to a string of store robberies. Though police had many opportunities to stop the group throughout the day, they ultimately chose to sit by and watch a robbery occur. Police didn’t seek to apprehend Harris and his friends until after they drove away. But police never alerted the group to their presence or gave them a chance to pull over. Instead, officers escalated directly to a high-risk maneuver that forced the car to a stop. That’s when Harris ran out and was shot.
Despite these issues, the Phoenix Police Department investigated Bertz and determined that he acted in accordance with department policy in killing Harris. The Maricopa County Attorney’s Office declined to prosecute, stating that Bertz did not “commit any act that warrants criminal prosecution.”
Instead, prosecutors decided to hold Harris’s three friends responsible for his death. Arizona’s “felony murder” law allows people to be charged with murder if someone dies during the commission of a felony, even if they did not cause the death. Jeremiah Triplett, Sariah Busani, and Johnny Reed—ages 20, 19, and 14 at the time—were in the car with Harris on the night of his death. The Maricopa County Attorney’s Office charged them with first-degree murder, armed robbery, kidnapping, and burglary.
Busani and Triplett were held in jail on a $1 million bond for three years before finally being sentenced in the first few months of 2022. Busani was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Triplett was sentenced to 30 years. Reed was held on a $500,000 bond and was ultimately sentenced to 15 years in prison—more years than he had even been alive at the time of his arrest.
“You guys are taking my 14-year-old baby and signing his whole life off,” Reed’s aunt, Shawanna Chambers, said in an interview with The Appeal. Chambers raised Reed and his younger brother since they were babies. “He’s a young Black boy. And we’re in poverty,” Chambers said. “They were never going to hold the police accountable for Jacob’s murder. It was going to be us.”
Reed, who was in his first year of high school at the time of his arrest, has been incarcerated with adults for the last four years because of the seriousness of the charges against him, Chambers said. According to his aunt, he has spent some of that time in solitary confinement in an attempt to separate him from the rest of the prison population because of his age. For the last year, Reed’s family has been unable to talk to him except through email. Chambers said she applied to visit in person, but the department of corrections told her they never received her application. The Arizona Department of Corrections, Rehabilitation, and Reentry did not respond when contacted for this story.
“I honestly want people to know we made a mistake, but that should never define who our characters are,” said Reed in an email. “We ain’t kill Jacob, we watched Jacob die before our eyes, that was our friend.”
Prison has been a painful adjustment, Reed said. “I’ve had to overcome depression and all kinds of things. I’ve been locked up in Solitary Confinement a few times, and that takes a whole different toll on your conscience,” he said. “I really miss my family.”
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Allowing a Robbery to Happen
Johnny Reed didn’t know police were watching him on the afternoon of January 10 as he stood outside his grandmother’s house with a group of friends. It was a warm, dry day in Glendale, a Phoenix suburb where the temperature rarely dips below 40 degrees. Reed was wearing navy jeans and a blue polo shirt buttoned all the way to the top. He had just finished the eighth grade the year before, but he’d grown lanky—already 5 feet 7 inches and very slight, just over 100 pounds. Police officers in unmarked vehicles snapped photos of Reed and his friends in front of the graying stucco walls of the Crystal Springs apartment complex. Ten thousand feet above him, a Phoenix police officer in a small airplane watched as the 14-year-old posed with an airsoft gun.
Reed had been spending a lot of time at his grandmother’s house after she was diagnosed with kidney failure. Reed was her first grandchild, and when she got sick, Reed would “never let her lift a finger,” said Chambers. His sweet and charming tendencies earned him the nickname “Butter” from his grandmother. It was a fitting term of endearment for a teenage boy who loved to bake. Chambers laughed over the phone as she recalled the many nights Reed and his brother spent in the kitchen, baking cookies and cakes. “I’d go to Goodwill and buy all this stuff that you could bake with,” Chambers said. “He couldn’t wait to get home and use them.”
To Chambers, Reed was a smart, easygoing kid who loved going to school and playing sports and had a positive influence on the people around him. “I want him home,” Chambers said over the phone, her voice breaking as she discussed what it had been like to see the child she had raised imprisoned for the last four years—with at least eight more to go. “We need him. They threw him away, he doesn’t mean anything to them. He means so much to us,” she said through tears.
Police were watching Reed and his friends because they believed that at least one of them—Jeremiah Triplett—was involved in a string of armed robberies that had taken place at fast food restaurants and convenience stores across the county over the previous two months. As is standard procedure in robbery investigations, Detective Jacob Rasmussen reviewed armed robbery reports, looking for patterns. Eventually he strung together several reports involving young Black males of similar builds, with hoodies cinched up around their faces. According to Rasmussen, these robberies often occurred at places like Whataburger fast food restaurants and Circle K convenience stores, and they often involved suspects who brandished a gun and took money from the cash register. Sometimes they took cigarettes. Some reports mentioned a red or maroon vehicle. But police didn’t have names or license plates.
Rasmussen asked other police departments in Maricopa County to look for similar robbery cases. On January 9, 2019, the Glendale Police Department passed one along. Four months earlier, Triplett had been arrested in connection with two robberies at Circle Ks. A Glendale patrol officer spotted Triplett in the parking lot of another Circle K on September 8, 2018, and recognized him from surveillance footage of the robberies that had occurred two days prior. Triplett left the parking lot driving a car with expired plates. Police pulled Triplett over and found Newport cigarettes and a bottle of Hennessy liquor in the car, the same items taken in the recent robbery. Triplett was arrested and pleaded guilty to solicitation of robbery. He was ordered to pay restitution and sentenced to 30 days in jail and three years of probation.
The Glendale police report shows why Phoenix police thought Triplett might be connected to the string of robberies Rasmussen had identified. But the thousands of pages of records The Appeal reviewed for this story do not explicitly state why surveillance began, or who, if anyone, police surveilled besides Triplett.
Neither the Phoenix Police Department nor Rasmussen responded when asked why they started surveilling the group on January 10.
Despite having at least nine police reports and surveillance videos of similar robberies, some of which involved a red or maroon SUV, police say they had no choice but to watch a robbery unfold in order to make an arrest.
A decision was made “to allow a robbery to happen,” Bertz said during a 2021 deposition for the civil case Roland Harris filed against the city. “That planning aspect was deemed, to my understanding, based on the fact that we did not have probable cause or sufficient evidence at the moment before the robbery to effect an actual arrest.”
Two other officers also said in depositions that the police department’s plan that evening was to allow a robbery to occur because “the investigators felt they didn’t have enough probable cause to make an arrest” for any of the more than two dozen prior robberies police believed the group had been involved in.
But during the 12 hours police spent surveilling Triplett and others, officers witnessed multiple crimes take place long before the group robbed a Whataburger. Police saw Triplett, who they knew already had a felony conviction, in possession of a gun—an offense he was later charged with. They saw Reed, a child, in possession of what they believed at the time was a deadly weapon. (It was an airsoft gun.) And they saw Triplett, who police knew was just 20 years old, drinking alcohol. Police surveillance photos of Triplett show a tall young man with dark hair and the beginnings of a beard. He was wearing a black, long-sleeve Champion shirt and a gold chain when officers secretly photographed him outside his mother’s house.
There were plenty of other opportunities to make an arrest, said Triplett’s mother, Theresa Greene, who lived in the same apartment complex as Reed’s grandmother. “I don’t know what was going through their heads, but now it’s cost a person their life.”
Instead, just after midnight on January 11, police watched and waited as a 14-year-old boy crawled through the drive-thru window of a burger restaurant and brandished an airsoft gun at the employees inside.
“Let People See What Police Really Did to Him.”
Two minutes after entering the Whataburger, Triplett, Reed, and Harris ran out of the restaurant and jumped into a red 2001 Honda Passport SUV driven by Sariah Busani. Busani had just turned 19. She had moved back to Phoenix a few months earlier after spending the summer with her mother, Christina Gonzales, in Parker, a town of about 3,000 people a few hours northwest of Phoenix, along the Colorado River. Busani had always been striking, her mother said, with a mane of long, dark hair, bright hazel eyes, and a petite frame. “She’s a beautiful person,” Gonzales said. “She’s the center of attention. Everybody loves Sariah. People are just drawn to her.”
Gonzales missed much of her youngest daughter’s childhood because she was struggling with substance use at the time and gave her parents custody of her children. Busani’s father had been in prison when she was a baby and was deported back to Mexico when he was released. To Gonzales, it was a dream to spend that much time with her daughter after all they had been through.
“We’d wake up in the morning and go down to the river,” Gonzales recalled. “We’d walk to this little market in the mornings. We’d always get the same thing—hot Cheetos and a soda. She’d talk to me about boys. One time in the living room we were just being goofy, rolling around tickling each other. We were laughing so hard, we couldn’t stop laughing. She was getting me, I was getting her. That’s my best memory,” Gonzales said as she began to cry. “I didn’t want her to leave.”
Gonzales wonders if she could have stopped what happened to her daughter if she hadn’t let her return to Phoenix. “Maybe if I would have done it differently,” Gonzales paused, choking back tears. “She would be here, you know?”
On January 11, Busani pulled out of the Whataburger parking lot with Triplett, Reed, and Harris in tow, unaware of the police surveillance plane tracking them from above. Footage taken from the aircraft shows unmarked police cars following Busani’s vehicle for nine minutes as the group drove down 10 miles of desert highway. There are no lights or sirens. At no point do police officers identify themselves or give Busani an opportunity to pull over.
Busani stops at a red light. The light turns green, and she accelerates. That’s when Officer David Norman pulls up to the rear of the Passport and deploys a device known as The Grappler to seize the back left tire of the vehicle. The department had recently acquired the tool, a heavy-duty nylon tether that latches onto a car’s axle. It was Norman’s first time using it outside of training.
The SUV jerks to a stop, turning slightly left from the force. A wall of unmarked police cars close in on the incapacitated vehicle. Officer Bertz puts his cruiser into park, opens the door, and throws a flashbang toward the passenger side of the Passport. It explodes and covers the area with a blinding light.
In the chaos, Jacob Harris opens the rear passenger door of the Passport and takes off running away from police. Within two seconds, officers gun him down. In total, Bertz, armed with an AR-15-style assault rifle and Norman, armed with a handgun, fire 11 shots at Harris. He is struck twice in the back. The first bullet penetrates his heart and his right lung and fractures his ribs, according to the medical examiner’s report, which would rule Harris’s death a homicide. The second tears through his gallbladder and intestines. Bertz fired both of the fatal shots.
The aerial surveillance footage shows Harris fall to the ground as he is shot, his arms extended above his head. A small object flies from his hands as he falls. Police would later report finding a gun on the side of the road where Harris was shot. Triplett and the two teenagers remain in the vehicle while other officers shoot out the windows of the Passport with rubber bullets. Terrified, Busani curls into a ball on the car’s floor with her hands held above her head.
“It all happened so quick,” Busani said. “Honestly it could have been any of us that night. I thank God every day because anything bad could have happened. We could have crashed, we could have all died.”
Content warning: The following paragraphs contain a graphic description of police violence and the death of a teenage boy. We are publishing video footage of Jacob Harris’s death at his father’s request. Click here if you would like to skip the section that contains graphic details.
As Harris lies bleeding face down on the ground, police shout commands at him. Harris puts his hands to his head. Police tell him not to move. Harris, who at this point is mortally wounded, can be seen in the aerial footage wiggling his legs. Moments later, a Phoenix police officer shoots Harris in the backside with a rubber bullet. Harris recoils from the blow but remains on the ground.
Some officers stay trained on Harris, while others order Triplett and the teenagers out of the vehicle one at a time and forcefully detain them. Officers shoot Harris with another rubber bullet, this time in the face. The force of it flips Harris onto his side. He clutches at his chest and curls into the fetal position. Then police sic a dog on him.
The dog bites Harris’s leg, thrashing its head from side to side as it drags Harris back toward the officers. They handcuff the dying teenager. At least 10 minutes pass from the time police shoot Harris to when officers render aid.
The Phoenix police report on the shooting states that two officers cut off Harris’s clothing and put pressure on his wounds. Harris kicked his feet and tossed his head in pain. The fire department came and transported Harris to a hospital nine miles away.
At 1:05 a.m.—43 minutes after Bertz and Norman opened fire—Harris was pronounced dead.
Phoenix police charged Harris with aggravated assault on a police officer. In the report on Harris’s death, Bertz and Norman are listed as “aggravated assault victim[s].” The charges were later dropped in light of Harris’s death.
“A Black 19-year-old child’s life is worth nothing to the city of Phoenix,” said Roland Harris, Jacob’s father. “Let people see what police really did to him. It was murder. It was a shooting and then they tortured Jacob afterwards.”
The city of Phoenix has long maintained that Harris’s death was justified, but multiple law enforcement officials have made inconsistent or false statements about the circumstances surrounding his death. In a press release sent to reporters shortly after the shooting, a spokesperson for the Phoenix Police Department said Harris “pointed his gun in the direction of officers.” But in an interview with the department’s professional standards bureau following the incident, Bertz himself said this did not happen.
When introducing the case against Harris’s friends to a grand jury, Heather Kirka, a prosecutor with the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office, said Harris “exchanged gunfire” with police. But Phoenix police officers who investigated the crime scene after the shooting found no rounds in the chamber of the handgun that was said to belong to Harris and no casings matching that firearm.
Bertz and Norman have said Harris turned toward Bertz while holding a gun, though Bertz’s statements about that night have not been consistent.
In an interview immediately after the shooting, Bertz told police investigators that he saw Harris get out of the car with a gun in his right hand. According to Bertz, Harris looks at him, starts running, then “turns back towards me just slightly, kinda makes a deliberate movement with that gun.” Then he shoots Harris.
Almost a month later, during an interview with the department’s professional standards bureau, Bertz described it differently. He said Harris exited the vehicle with a gun in his hand, then stopped. “He had a gun, stopped his motion of fleeing, made a deliberate movement with his arm looking back in my direction,” Bertz said. Later in that same interview, Bertz said it was just Harris’s arm that stopped moving, and that what he actually meant was that Harris was running with his arm held still against his chest. When asked about this apparent discrepancy during his deposition in the civil case brought by Harris’s father, Bertz said, “I was not trying to describe that he, Jacob Harris, the entirety of his person stopped, but that my focus being that the gun, the arm, and the hand holding the gun was not simply trying to—to run at that moment.”
During the professional standards bureau interview, Bertz was asked directly if the gun was ever pointed at him. “No it never got fully up on me,” he responded. But during his deposition, Bertz said: “When that back rear passenger door opens, the first thing that presents itself from that door is a semiautomatic firearm being held in the right hand of the occupant seated or now exiting the backseat of that vehicle. That firearm comes out of the vehicle and swings back towards my direction where I’m at, which is again off to the south and west of where their final stop location was … As that subject gets out and I identify that weapon being pointed back towards me, I raised my rifle.”
Of the eight officers who were present at the time of the shooting and provided official statements, only two—Norman and Bertz—said they saw Harris holding a gun. They are also the only ones who reported seeing Harris turn toward Bertz. In Norman’s deposition and his interview with police investigators immediately after the shooting, he said Harris was running away from them, but turned back toward Bertz twice—all in the matter of two seconds. Another officer, Charles Holton, said he only saw Harris run and couldn’t see his hands.
Video of the killing taken from the police aircraft shows Harris running away. He does not stop. He does not turn. He does not extend his arm toward police. And he never exchanges gunfire with the police, as prosecutors first told the public. Police and prosecutors have said the footage shows Harris as a “white blob,” and that the thermal camera inside the airplane does not capture “individualized movements.”
But the footage itself clearly shows the delineation of Harris’s arms and hands. The video appears to show Harris fleeing for two seconds, before he is felled by a hail of gunfire. His arms and hands extend in front of him when he is shot.
“You can’t justify shooting my son twice in the back while he was running away,” Roland Harris said. “Justify why you shot my son in his ass with a beanbag gun after he had already been shot through the lung and the heart. Justify that to me. Justify you telling my son to obey a lawful command and get up and then you shoot him in his fucking face with a beanbag gun, and then sic a dog on him. Justify why your other officers on the scene allowed that to happen.”
